


Feeling Feline

by Jupiterra



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Cat/Human Hybrids, Funny, M/M, One Shot, Protective Parents, dirty - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 17:44:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12487304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jupiterra/pseuds/Jupiterra
Summary: Ivan has been turned into a cat. Insanity ensues.





	Feeling Feline

“So... we're all going to pretend this is normal?” Alfred stated loudly. Russia was a few seats away, predatory purple eyes analyzing the upset American. The staring was quite normal at this point, it was everything else that was wrong.

For one thing, Russia had cat ears. They were a fluffy pale beige, rather soft looking things. The sharp looking canines and nails were also concerning. A long fluffy tail tipped in brown swished this way and that under his long coat. “What is the matter America?” Russia purred, almost literally.

“You're a cat dude. Why is no one freaking out?” Alfred objected, interrupting the world meeting for the third time. “Please do shut up Alfred. We know that foul creature is a cat.” England snapped, looking more miserable than usual due to a broken arm.

When no one pushed the conversation further, the honey blonde whined and sat down. Brazil started his presentation about green energy all over again, and the room collectively groaned. Listening to the mind numbing report, Alfred slid a chair closer to the feline Russia. Now two chairs away, the curious American leaned over. “Hey, are your ears really fluffy?” he whispered, poking Russia in the shoulder.

Russia's cool demeanor was betrayed by an annoyed flattening of ears and narrowed gaze. The ash blond sighed. “Yes they are fluffy. That is a stupid question.” he retorted. “Can I touch them?” Alfred asked as quietly as he could manage. The Russian contemplated hitting Alfred in the face, then changed his mind. “Yes, I suppose.” he replied, lower his head slightly in permission.

England was listening politely, but not hearing a word, as Brazil finally finished his long spiel. He glanced around the table, looking with fondness at all his former colonies. Canada was taking notes. Australia and New Zealand were giggling and exchanging doodles of sheep in various hats. America was smiling like a fool, petting the oversized beast known as Russia.

Wait, what?

Making as little noise as possible, England left his chair. Walking over to the tanned brat, the patriarchal figure grabbed his colony by the ear. “What in bloody hell do you think you are doing young man? That... thing is Russia, not a common house pet!” the sandy haired Brit hissed. “Piss off. You're not my dad.” America dismissed angrily, easily removing England's grip.

“He is grown up, let him make decisions.” Ivan rumbled, at peace as behind his cat ears was gently scratched. Regretting having thrown that unlabelled potion at the Slavic home intruder earlier in the week, Arthur grumbled and returned to his chair. He could only take America on solo, tricking him with double speak and long words. Russia was just as strong, and an accomplished wordsmith.

This was an argument, and possible fight, he couldn't win. Despite knowing when to take a loss these days, it still hurt Arthur's quieted pride immensely. Were he an still a terrifying blood stained empire, he would crush Russia into paste. Instead, England would have to take more back handed forms of revenge. With that in mind, he returned his attention to the current speaker.

00000

Rather pleased with himself, Arthur walked up to America's front porch. He had a small package of home cooking and potions in his arms. The parental figure had been so concerned about the Russia cat situation that he brewed up what was hopefully an antidote. Alfred loved cats, and that was certain to cause issues.

After knocking on the door several times, a groggy looking blonde with blue eyes appeared. “Who the fuck comes to visit on a Sunday, when... Oh. Hey England. What's up?” America ceased his complaining, features lighting up after a long yawn. He was shirtless with sweatpants on, not surprising since it was Sunday. Well, this was going great. Maybe they could have a civilized conversation over tea like the old days.

“I came to visit boy. It's been some time since I was overseas. I brought a surprise.” England explained curtly as he was let in. “Omigod, I love gifts. Whatisit whatisit?” the overgrown child squealed happily, grabbing and opening the large tin. “Haystacks.... Mmm.” he groaned, walking into the messy living room.

England froze upon seeing the worst thing in the world. It was cat Russia, tousled in half unbuttoned sleepwear, nursing a bottle of vodka while watching bizarre Sunday cartoons. “Mmm, ruskie you gotta try one, It's good.” Alfred offered, crashing on the couch next to the vile blond. “What is in it?” Russia asked, rosy looking and likely drunk.

“It's haystacks! There's pretzel bits and marshmallows and, nuts, and chocolate... and this weird purple thing, and uh... more nuts maybe? It's fucking awesome.” the always hungry American rambled after swallowing another sugary treat. Arthur smiled at the praise. Everyone was so afraid to eat his cooking for some reason. The man cat rolled his eyes, replying “I prefer vodka over poison, Alik.”

“Why are you here Russia? Don't you have an evil frozen throne to reside over?” Arthur insulted bitterly. “Nyet. My boss's daughters are allergic to cats, so I have been banished until my condition is cured.” Russia explained gleefully, putting an arm around America. He eyed Arthur maliciously as he pressed against Alfred in lustful manner.

Wanting to vomit, England retreated a step. “So... yeah. I have a pet kitty until his boss stops being an idiot. It's pretty fuckin' rad to have a cat you can arm wrestle with, and... other things.” Alfred trailed off, suddenly quite keen to change subjects. “... like amazing sex.” Russia gloated proudly, cuddling the American possessively.

Alfred was usually a horrible liar, and now wasn't an exception. He sputtered some lame excuse, but it died half way through delivery. “Come sunflower, perhaps I will bottom this time. We can even use toys.” Ivan flirted shamelessly, kissing Alfred's neck. Blushing hotly, the freckled American forgot the treats in hand completely. “You should probably leave, because I'm totally going to tap that.” America warned, practically dragging a terribly smug Russia upstairs.

Arthur stood there frozen in shock, unable to speak for once.

**Author's Note:**

> Like what you see? Comment or leave a kudos!


End file.
